


Lazy Phantom

by Psi_Fi



Category: LazyTown
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 02:02:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12571240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psi_Fi/pseuds/Psi_Fi
Summary: Sportacus attends a ball and meets a seductive figure.





	Lazy Phantom

Sportacus did a flip out of Skutla, his transport pod, and stared, grinning, at the people slowly making their way into Ambassador Hall. Pride Town had arranged a ball, as a gesture of friendship and solidarity between the various townships. A selection of prominent and ordinary citizens, including heroes and villains, had been invited from each town. Sportacus wasn't sure if Robbie had been invited, but doubted he would be there. There hadn't been a mention of cake in the menu Sportacus had received, with his invitation. 

Sportacus was very impressed with the guests. They were all dressed very finely, in tuxedos and dresses. Black, gray, and dark blues only heightened the glittering fabrics of the dresses, ties, and cumberbunds. Emerald greens, ambers, reds, and every other color sparkled in the lights that lined the driveway to the hall. The styles varied widely, representing quite a few different eras of fashion history. 

The kids from Lazy Town, who stood huddled near the entrance with Bessie and Mayor Milford, were formally dressed, too. Stephanie was wearing a dark pink gown that flowed out from a tight waist down to her ankles, reminding Sportacus of her princess outfits. Bessie's gown was dark red velvet, with an off the shoulder neckline and a long slit up her leg. Even Trixie was wearing a dress! Hers seemed a bit more practical, with a flaring skirt that ended just below her knees and a sleeveless bodice. The boys were all in tuxedos, with metallic blue ties and cumberbunds. 

Making sure not to get too close to any of the guests, Sportacus flipped his way over to his friends.

"Sportacus!" they all cried happily, then their smiles turned to dismay.

"You're not dressed up!" Stephanie protested, disappointed, seeing the hero in his usual blue outfit.

"A-aren't you coming in with us, Sportacus?" Ziggy asked, trembling a bit.

"Guys, calm down!" Sportacus said, gently, but boldly. "Of course, I'm coming in with you! I wouldn't miss this for anything. It's just...they invited some villains, too, and I think one or two of us heroes need to be ready, in case there is trouble. That's all." 

"That's a _very_ good idea, Sportacus," the Mayor said, approvingly. "We always can rely on you." 

"I hope you can, Mayor. Now, come on. Let's go inside!" 

Sportacus ushered everyone into the building. Fortunately, it was just warm enough that they hadn't needed to bring coats, so they walked by the cloakroom, following the crowd to the main ball room. Sportacus knew the hall had three levels and the entire building had been rented for the next three evenings by the event organizers and sponsors. On this, the main level, was a ball room, a smaller ball room for the invited children, and a dining room, for meals. Once inside the main ball room, Sportacus pulled the children to one side, so they could gape at the elegance of the room. 

The main ballroom was a massive rectangle, with a small stage set up at one end, draped in rich fabrics, flowers, and lights to give it a magical appearance. Green marble, shot through with silvery gray, formed pillars that stood every few feet, down the length of the room. Between the pillars were paintings of flowering trees, snowy fields, and prancing, wild animals. The floor was covered in a carpet with emerald green celtic knots, lined in gold, that almost obscured its shimmery gray background. Sportacus admired the beauty of the room, though he couldn't help being a bit amused by its air of self-importance. 

"All right, children," Bessie announced. "You can come back here, later. You have your own ballroom to appreciate, after all."

"Will you come with us, Sportacus?" Stephanie pleaded.

"I'll come by later," Sportacus promised, smiling. "Go have fun and meet some new kids!" 

"Okay!" Pixel agreed, helping Bessie herd the other children away. "We'll see you later, Sportacus."

With a last, friendly wave, Sportacus walked deeper into the room. As he mingled around, offering greetings and learning a few names, a tall man took the stage. The lights dimmed, the room becoming darkest in the area closest to the man, who sat at the mahogany piano. Sportacus smiled, as powerful music flooded the room. The song was dark, lively, and alluring. A small, haunting refrain tugged at his emotions. The guests began dividing into couples, dancing and twirling.

Sportacus studied the musician, as he played the unfamiliar song. The man was tall and, probably, very handsome. The right side certainly was. The left side was covered by a white mask. Half of the man's nose was covered, but his mouth was entirely free, along with the right side of his face. Gray eyes gleamed from under black eyebrows. Black curls were swept back from his forehead, but covering his head in charming disarray.

Sportacus found himself slowly approaching the stage. The musician looked up at him and gave a slow nod. Sportacus bowed back, smiling warmly, which seemed to amuse the other man. A small smile quirked the tips of his lips, which were painted a cherry red. Sportacus couldn't help admiring the man and his outfit.

The musician's long legs were covered in tight black pants, his feet in shiny, black boots. He wasn't wearing a coat, only a short, black cape, lined in purple just a bit lighter than an eggplant. A golden chain kept the cape from falling off the man's shoulders. A white shirt was wrapped around the man's torso, leaving a deep, open v that would have exposed the man's chest, if it weren't for the ruffles lining its edges. Instead, only a small triangle of flesh and hair was visible. 

"Magnificent," a man beside him murmured.

Sportacus wasn't sure, if he meant the man or the song, but nodded in agreement. Both were true in his opinion. 

"Do you know him?"

"No and they didn't hire any musicians, so I can't ask. He's another guest."

"Excuse me, please," Sportacus apologized, hopping up onto the stage and doing a flip to the floor on the other side. He grabbed the wrist of a small man in a cheap, navy tuxedo, pulling his hand out of a lady's purse. "That isn't yours." 

The thief turned with a hiss, yanking away, then reaching towards his belt. An unexpected crescendo in the song, strong and sharp, stopped his movement. The thief looked to the stage and found stormy, gray eyes glaring at him. The thief wilted under that stare. Giving the musician a timid wave, he slinked off into the crowd. Sportacus turned, looking at the musician in surprise. The musician winked at him, a wry twist to his lips. 

Grinning, Sportacus did a double somersault in the air, landing back where he had started. The other admirer had left. Sportacus moved a bit closer to the stage, as another song began, equally strange and unfamiliar. A soft hand touched his arm. Sportacus started to turn towards the person, but hesitated, looking up again at the musician. The musician quirked his eyebrows, almost challengingly, directing Sportacus' attention to the person next to him. Sportacus turned, finding a pretty young woman and just missing the musician's sulky expression. 

"Would you like to dance?" she asked, shyly, her other hand twisting in her skirt.

"I would love to!" Sportacus said, warmly, giving her a bright, friendly smile. "I'm Sportacus."

"I'm Michelle."

Taking her hand, he assumed a dance position, waiting as Michelle placed her trembling hand on his shoulder. Despite her nervousness, Sportacus was impressed with her dancing. As they glided around the stage, the music shifted, becoming light and airy. The song seemed flippant, in a way Sportacus couldn't explain to himself. As his dance with Michelle ended, Sportacus found more than one other dancer, waiting to take her place. A soft chuckle flowed down from the stage and the music changed, once again. 

For whatever reason, the musician began playing Footloose, though he declined to sing along. Laughter came from the guests, who relaxed their formal postures and began kicking and spinning in modern dances to the cheerful song. Sportacus took full advantage, peppering his dancing with flips and spins, even doing a bit of break dancing. He twirled between dance partners, including everyone. 

The fun ended, when Sportacus' crystal began flashing and beeping. He felt a moment's annoyance, when the music didn't end, only changed. Low notes fell in a fast, staccato rhythm, like the falling of feet, followed by soaring high notes. The song was a worthy hero's theme: confident, determined, and even playful. Tuning it out, Sportacus ran a dozen steps away towards the trouble. Doing a midair flip, he landed in the middle of a gawking crowd. A young lady was sprawled on the floor, clutching one leg. Tears dotted her full, pretty cheeks. Her distressed partner knelt beside her. Sportacus sat on his heels next to them, his smile soft and concerned.

"Are you all right?"

"I d-dropped her!" the young man stammered, appalled.

"It was an accident, Jeff," the girl interrupted firmly, but kindly. "We were doing a lift and collided with another couple."

"Sandy, I'm sorry," Jeff lamented.

"Jeff? Can you do me a favor? Please, go to the dining area and get me a large cloth and some ice. Okay?"

"Oh? Oh, yes! Certainly. Sandy...I'll be right back." 

"I'll be right here," she returned, bravely.

Sportacus waited until Jeff was gone, then turned to Sandy with a reassuring smile. He was pleased that the music had changed again, becoming calming. 

"May I examine your leg?"

With her permission, Sportacus checked her injury, bending and testing her leg and ankle. Sandy winced a bit, but didn't complain. Sportacus released her with a satisfied grin.

"It's all right. There's no swelling, yet. You'll have a magnificent bruise, but nothing is broken or sprained. You should probably ice it for awhile, maybe while eating some dinner," Sportacus suggested. 

"Can I stand? I think Jeff would feel better, if I was on my feet, when he gets back."

"You can try," Sportacus encouraged cheerfully, holding his hands out to her.

He gently pulled Sandy to her feet, making sure to support her, in case she stumbled.

Sandy gave a pained hiss, as her weight came down on her leg, but she seemed steady. She gave Sportacus a watery smile, but nodded firmly. The music took on a tripping, triumphant air. Sportacus looked towards the stage. The musician seemed far away, but Sportacus swore the man looked amused. He was tempted to call out, but Jeff arrived holding a napkin full of ice. 

"Oh! You're better!" Jeff observed happily.

"I need to ice my leg, so we're going to dine. Thank you, sir," Sandy said to Sportacus, beginning to pull Jeff towards the exit. 

"You're welcome!" Sportacus said, smiling brightly, then cartwheeling back towards the stage, being very careful not to collide with anyone. He stopped next to the stage. "That amused you." 

"It did," the musician agreed. 

He finished his song, then stood up. The lights brightened and music came from speakers hidden around the room. As he stood, the dancers began applauding. The musician froze for a few seconds, then gave a deep bow, before walking to the edge of the stage. For some reason, the musician gave a deep, rich laugh, as he stepped a bit awkwardly onto the dance floor, coming to a halt in front of Sportacus. 

"Hello! I'm Sportacus. You play extremely well." 

"Of course, you are," the man agreed. "Thank you."

"What's your name?" 

"Do phantoms have names?" 

"I think men dressed as them do," Sportacus countered, with a laugh. "I need something to call you." 

"Oh? Why do you _need_ that?" 

"Well, it's easier to talk and be friends with someone, if you know their name." 

"Do you want to be my friend?" the stranger asked, a strange note in his voice.

"I like making friends," Sportacus said, with enthusiasm.

"I noticed," was the dry response. "Well, then, you may call me Hob." 

"It's nice to meet you, Hob. Do you play professionally?" 

"No," Hob murmured, his eyes traveling from Sportacus' shoes and slowly up to his eyes. "It's nice to meet you, too."

Sportacus blushed a bit at Hob's staring, but indulged the man. He'd done his own ogling earlier. Sportacus fought a ridiculous urge to step closer to Hob, even as his gaze left a path of warmth across Sportacus' body. That was definitely a smirk on the man's full lips.

"You're under-dressed," Hob observed, a bit disapproving. 

"I need to be able to move freely, in case the villains cause trouble," Sportacus explained. 

"Oh, but a good suit should move with you. How else could you dance? Here. Let me show you," Hob offered.

Hob took Sportacus' hand. His touch was light, confident, and sent a pleasant spark of electricity up Sportacus' arm. Before Sportacus could pull away, or pull the other man closer, Hob spun Sportacus around, catching him off guard. Something like wind surrounded Sportacus, tugging at his clothes and leaving him a bit dizzy. When he came to a stop, he looked down in shock. 

Sportacus' clothes were completely changed. He was wearing a French suit, from over a hundred years ago. His coat and trousers were sapphire blue. The trousers ended at his knees, his lower legs covered by white stockings, his feet by white boots. A crisp white shirt was almost entirely hidden by a long, cream vest, that went to his hips. Only the shirt's ruffles were visible, at his neck, down his chest, and at his wrists. The coat went to his knees and was heavily embroidered with gold thread. Gold and blue thread embroidered the vest in the shapes of leaves and flowers. 

Sportacus' hat was gone and hadn't been replaced. Hob was staring, a bit oddly, at Sportacus' curly, blond locks, his fingers rubbing together. Sportacus awkwardly ran his hands through his hair, receiving a scolding look. Hob laughed.

"Allow me. You're only making a mess," he declared, running his fingers over the curls and getting them into order. "You're an elf." 

"Well, ye...my crystal!" Sportacus cried out, alarmed.

"Shhhh," Hob whispered, soothingly. He reached into a pocket on the inside of the coat, pulling out the crystal, which was set into a tiny, golden cage, held to the coat on a chain.

"Thank goodness," Sportacus said, relieved. "I need that."

"Hopefully not," Hob disagreed. "This is a ball. It's supposed to be a _civilized_ affair." 

"Well, some villains can be very civilized, even while causing trouble." 

"Point to you," Hob said, dryly. 

"Are you from Pride Town?"

"Fishing," Hob accused, playfully. 

"I'm curious about you."

"Why?" Hob said, voice lilting. 

"Um. I don't know," Sportacus admitted, grinning. "Maybe, I just like your eyes. And, you are very talented. I've never been mocked by a piano before."

"That you know of." 

Sportacus laughed, "I want to know more about you."

Hob stepped even closer, leaving only an inch or so between them. 

"How much more? " he asked, silkily, making Sportacus' mouth go dry, his heart beat quickening.

"I suppose that depends on what I learn."

"Does it?" 

"Well, let's find out!" Sportacus said, cheerfully. 

"I have a better idea," Hob said, once more taking Sportacus' hand in his own. "Will you dance with me?" 

"I'd love to," Sportacus said, simply and sincerely.

Hob lifted their joined hands and placed his other on Sportacus' waist, letting his fingers trail just a bit against the hero's side. Sportacus placed his other hand on Hob's shoulder, feeling lean muscle under his touch. Like Robbie, the tall, slender man had a hidden, wiry strength. Sportacus realized Hob's eyes were similar to Robbie's, too, a shade of stormy gray, though Hob's were much softer. Sportacus scolded himself, firmly banishing Robbie from his mind, as he and Hob began dancing, moving smoothly across the dance floor. 

"No, I'm not from Pride Town," Hob finally answered. "I come from a small town, near the ocean." 

"As a matter of fact, that describes where I live. I'm from a place called Lazy Town."

"And, is it lazy?"

"No, it's a beautiful, fun place to live." 

"Lazy can be fun, surely?" 

"Well, maybe in small doses. The kids tried to get me to be lazy for a day once, as a sort of vacation. I can't say I liked it much. To be honest, I was just bored." 

"Then, you weren't doing it right."

"Well, I haven't really had any practice." 

"Maybe you need a spotter, like in exercise. Someone to show you the ropes."

Sportacus laughed, shaking his head.

"That's okay. I think I'll stick with what I know." 

"You said 'the kids,' but you don't seem to be here with anyone." 

"I'm not," Sportacus assured him. "They aren't mine, just friends that I teach and help." 

"Good," Hob said, moving his hand from Sportacus' waist to the small of his back. "I think I'd like your undivided attention, for awhile." 

"I'll do my best, as long as my crystal doesn't go off." 

They danced silently for a time, moving slowly together, as soft, romantic ballads played over the hidden speakers. Sportacus was almost too aware of his dance partner's body. Hob's hand felt warm and his thumb moved ever so slightly over the flesh above Sportacus' wrist. They were inches apart and Sportacus had to fight the temptation to move even closer. A small smile curled the corners of Hob's full lips. Best or worst of all, Hob was studying Sportacus, too, seemingly pleased with what he saw. 

"Sportacus!" Bessie interrupted. "There you are! It's almost seven and you haven't visited the children yet!" 

"Oh!" Sportacus exclaimed, feeling guilty. "You're right! Oh, uh, Bessie, this is Hob. He's a musician."

"Hello," Hob said, his tone a bit cool.

"Ohhh, well, hello," Bessie simpered, then shook herself. "Um. I have to get back to Milford. Sportacus, will you make sure the children get to bed? I know they won't go down at _exactly_ eight oh eight, but they don't need to be up at midnight, either! See you later!" 

"I'll see to it, Bessie," Sportacus promised, then turned back to Hob. "I'm sorry. I do have to go now." 

"I understand," Hob said reluctantly. He smiled ruefully. "Go take care of your tots." 

"They're not mine! I just help out," Sportacus insisted, laughing. "Where will you be later?" 

A sly smile stretched Hob's mouth.

"You'll find me," he promised, turning and disappearing into the crowd. 

"I hope so," Sportacus whispered, watching him go. 

Grinning brightly, Sportacus did a series of flips, heading for the doors. Sportacus found the children's ballroom with ease. He simply followed the sound of children laughing, bouncing into the room. It took a moment for Sportacus' friends to notice him. Pixel and Stephanie were dancing together, while Stingy danced with Trixie. Ziggy was dancing with a girl his own age. When he spotted Sportacus, Ziggy rushed over, pulling the girl with by the hand.

"Guys, guys, Sportacus is here!" he cried. "Sportacus, this is my friend Alice. She's from Liar Town and she likes taffy and she's really nice!"

"Hello, Alice. I'm glad to meet you."

"Hello," Alice greeted, giving a clumsy curtsy. "Ziggy, I'm going to get us more juices."

"Okay, Alice!" Ziggy agreed, waving good-bye to her.

"Hi, Sportacus," Stephanie said, then gasped. "You changed your clothes! You look awesome. Your ears are showing, too."

"Well, it wasn't exactly me. Another guest felt I was under-dressed. He didn't give me a hat, though."

"Another guest? You mean Robbie?" Pixel asked.

"Ah, no. Have you seen Robbie?"

"No," Stephanie answered, regretfully. "Everyone is having so much fun! It's sad to think of him alone, back in Lazy Town."

"Yes, well, who did give you the clothes? I want them to be _mmiine_." 

"I met a new friend, named Hob." 

"Maybe Robbie is here in disguise," Trixie exclaimed. "He could just be waiting for the right moment to swoop in and spoil all of the fun!"

"I don't think so," Sportacus said, chuckling. "He usually does that to get you to be quiet or me to go away. Right now, I'm already away and Lazy Town is quiet."

"He might still be in disguise, though," Ziggy said. "He _likes_ disguises, especially when he's around other people."

"Right. Just be careful of any tall, skinny guys with gray eyes!" Stephanie advised.

"I think I'll be all right. Not every man who looks like that is Robbie. In fact, that describes Hob, too." 

"Do you think Hob might be Robbie?"

"Well, it's not impossible. Hob seems to like me, though."

"Robbie pretended to be your best friend, when you lost your memory," Trixie reminded him.

Sportacus remembered, all too well. It had hurt, realizing that the other man didn't like him. Sometimes, Sportacus wished he could dislike the other man, dismiss him as nothing but an evil villain to be stopped. He couldn't, though. Something about Robbie called to him, reined him in, like a fish on a hook, and he was pretty sure Robbie didn't do it on purpose. Robbie might not even realize it. 

"Robbie pulls some mean tricks, sometimes, but...he makes things fun, too. Stingy was right. Lazy Town wouldn't be the same without him. It's cool, when he plays with us, at least until he starts ruining things," Pixel said, thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Stephanie agreed. "We had so much fun treasure hunting as pirates." 

"I liked scouting with him, until the wind got so bad," Ziggy agreed. 

"I think Robbie had fun, then, too, but he needs the schemes as an excuse for playing and then things go too far," Sportacus explained. 

"But, why does he need an excuse to play?" Stephanie asked. 

"That, I don't know," Sportacus admitted. "But, come on. We're supposed to be having fun! Who wants to learn the dance from Thriller?" 

"You know the Thriller dance??" Stingy asked, amazed.

"Of course, I love that video!" 

Sportacus began teaching the dance and soon the entire room was participating. By nine o'clock, the children had the first part of the dance memorized, though they stumbled in places. At nine-thirty, Sportacus and most of the other chaperones insisted that the children go to their rooms in the hotel section of Ambassador hall and get ready for bed. Stephanie and her friends grumbled only a little, letting Sportacus guide them down the hallways. Once they had changed their clothes and gotten into bed, Bessie showed up, with Milford.

"The kids are in bed. They'll be asleep soon," Sportacus predicted, smiling fondly over his shoulder at their doors.

"Oh, good. Things certainly aren't slowing down in the other ballrooms. I think this is going to be an all night affair for many. Milford and I are retiring though. The sunrise from the gardens is supposed to be spectacular!" 

"I'm sure it is. If you're going to be here, I think I'll look around a bit more. I'm not quite ready for sleep myself."

"Yes, it'd be just like the villains to pull something, just as everyone was preparing to sleep. Well, good night, Sportacus."

"Good night, Bessie, Mayor." 

Sportacus began roaming the halls of the hotel, some instinct taking him down the stairs. When he reached the lowest level, he heard piano music, coming from the left hallway. He walked slowly, timing his steps to the beat of the music, the beat of his heart. The hallway seemed absurdly long, but he just followed the music patiently. Finally, he stopped outside a closed door and the song changed to a familiar one. It was the first song Hob had played in the ballroom. Sportacus reached up to knock...

"Come in," Hob said, before Sportacus' hand touched the door. 

Sportacus obeyed, entering the room, then stopping, a bit stunned. Hob _had_ to have decorated the room himself! Sportacus' own room was nothing like this. Heavy fabric, a purplish black, hung from the walls and divided the room into sections. A black piano was wedged into one corner of the room, a candelabra with purple candles sitting on top of it. More of the black fabric formed a curtain around the corner diagonally across from the piano, pulled back just enough to show the corner of a bed, sticking out. 

"You're staring, Sportacus." 

"Yes, I suppose I am. How did you get all of this in here?" 

"It wasn't even difficult," Hob promised, smirking. 

Hob was still wearing the same shirt and pants, but his cape had been discarded.

"When you said I would find you, this isn't what I pictured." 

Hob just laughed, playing a quick trilling of notes, to match his mood. 

A high back chair sat just a foot or two away from the piano bench. Sportacus walked and stood next to it, watching Hob's fingers, as they played over the keys.

"Please, have a seat." 

"Thank you. You compose your own music, don't you?" 

"I've written some pieces, yes. Do you like this?"

"Yes, I do, very much. Where did you learn to play?"

"In my grandfather's living room." 

"He taught you?"

"He taught me the rudiments, at least. I learned the rest from books and long hours of practice." 

"They've paid off." 

"The kids are in bed, now?"

"Yes. I don't think we'll be interrupted again." 

"Good," Hob said, flicking a switch on the side of his piano. He stopped playing, but music remained. Hob held out his hand. "Shall we continue, where we left off?" 

Sportacus stepped close, taking Hob's hand.

"May I ask...why did you decide to wear a mask?"

"What is the Phantom, without his mask?" 

"A bit more ordinary?" Sportacus chided lightly, making Hob laugh.

"No, a lot more exposed. Some things are more easily done, behind a mask."

"What sorts of things?" 

"All sorts. It depends on the individual and what they want to make happen." 

"What do you want to make happen?" Sportacus asked, a bit warily. He liked Hob, but, then, he liked Robbie, too. 

"For now, at least, just this," Hob soothed, leading them around the floor of his room. 

"You don't need a mask to dance with me." 

Hob's shoulders tensed, though he didn't stop moving or pull away. It only lasted a moment, before Hob relaxed again, giving a wry chuckle. Sportacus studied him, puzzled and regretting his comment.

"Spoken like someone who has never wanted or tried one," Hob teased, but annoyed.

"I'm sorry, Hob." 

"I know. You just don't understand."

"Explain it to me, then."

"I can't. Not now, at least. Maybe I'll try later." 

"All right," Sportacus agreed. "I'm glad I found you again." 

"But, you're wondering who I am."

"Yes, I am."

"Who would you like me to be?" 

Sportacus blushed.

"I want you to be yourself. That's all you can ask of anyone."

"That really isn't an answer, though."

"No, it isn't. There is someone I'm interested in, but...he's not interested back. So. I like you for whoever you are, not who I can imagine you to be." 

"He must be an idiot." 

Sportacus laughed, shaking his head.

"He's the exact opposite of that. Robbie's probably the most intelligent person I've ever known." 

Hob's arms tightened, holding Sportacus a little tighter. 

"Are you sure he isn't interested?"

"I'm pretty sure," Sportacus agreed wryly. "His often stated goal is to drive me out of Lazy Town, forever. He's our town villain." 

"And he plots to make you go away?"

"Yes. For example, he's tried shooting me out of a cannon, twice. He's very open about not liking me."

"Or, maybe, he's the sort of naughty boy who dips your hair in ink to show he _does_ like you." 

Sportacus gave a startled laugh, then nodded.

"Well, yes, that could be true." 

Hob stopped the dance, but didn't release Sportacus. Instead he leaned closer, until their mouths were inches away. 

"Do you want me?" 

"Yes. No. I can't know, without knowing who you are." 

"Just a kiss. Let me," Hob whispered hungrily.

"Show me who you are," Sportacus countered, his heart pounding. 

"Masks are easier to put on, than to take off." 

"Try," Sportacus urged, moving even closer, so he could almost feel Hob's lips. "Trust me just a little and...I want to see who I'm kissing." 

"I trust you," the Phantom assured him. 

Releasing Sportacus' hand, he reached up and pulled off his mask. Black and silver sparks whirled around his face. Beneath them, tight, ashen skin clung to his cheekbones and jaw, almost revealing the skull beneath. Where the mask had been, the side of the nose was missing, leaving a gaping hole. Hob's left eye rolled loosely in a socket devoid of flesh. Sportacus gasped.

Robbie Rotten laughed. The silver and black sparks disappeared, revealing his true, whole face beneath them. 

"Robbie!" Sportacus exclaimed, scolding and laughing, all at once, relief and tentative joy filling his heart. 

"Oh, come on. I had to! The Phantom is supposed to be hideous, behind his mask." 

Sportacus laughed, bringing his hands up and cupping Robbie's face, gently.

"You are not a phantom or hideous," Sportacus said, grinning and shaking his head. 

"Mmhm. May I have that kiss now?" Robbie asked, gravely. 

"Robbie," Sportacus repeated, tenderly, drawing Robbie closer and slanting their mouths into a deep, slow kiss. 

Robbie pulled Sportacus tight against him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. They kissed hungrily, lost in each other's taste and warmth. He pulled only an inch or two back, resting their foreheads together.

"I love you, Sportacus. Too fast, I know this is, but...enjoy me. Let me enjoy you." 

"I love you, too. It's time for bed," Sportacus agreed, running his hands over Robbie's back, before grabbing fistfuls of his shirt.

Robbie gave a panicked squawk. He snapped his fingers and his shirt and Sportacus' shirt, vest, and coat disappeared from their bodies, appearing neatly folded on the piano bench. Robbie grinned, but waved a chastising finger.

"No tearing my clothes, until further notice. I hand-stitched a lot of that!" 

"I was going to pull it over your head, I promise!" Sportacus protested, chuckling. 

"Well. That's all right, then," Robbie said, taking Sportacus' hand and leading him to the bed. "I'll make some clothes later that you can tear, though." 

Sportacus licked his lips, a bit stunned at his own, excited reaction to that promise. Robbie pushed Sportacus onto the bed, crawling into his lap. They kissed, taking their time, letting their hands explore bodies that were familiar, only by sight. Sportacus granted Robbie's request, letting Robbie make love to him, slow and deep. They finished as they started, laying in each other's arms and exchanging kisses, licking and sucking gently on lips and tongues.

Sportacus woke the next morning to a finger, gently caressing his face, tracing the contours of his cheeks and the curve of his lips. Robbie frowned thoughtfully down at him. He smiled, almost ruefully, when he saw Sportacus was awake.

"Are you all right?" 

"You thought I hated you," Robbie said evenly, eyes darkening with the thought.

"Yes," Sportacus admitted, worried, but Robbie shook his head.

"I do love you. I don't want to hurt you, but I know I will. I'm just not good with other people." 

"All couples argue and sometimes they hurt each other," Sportacus mused. "That doesn't mean anything is terribly wrong."

"That's not what I mean." 

"Tell me." 

"I can make love to you," Robbie said, tracing a hand down Sportacus' chest. "That part is easy. The day to day stuff is what's hard. Interacting is hard." 

"I don't understand. Why is interacting with people you love hard?"

"I think it's the people part," Robbie quipped, then sighed. "You and most other people, you know this, this code, a formula. It tells you things about each other. You can use the code and know what people are thinking or--or feeling, what they expect in certain situations. And you know the code so well, that you don't even realize that it's there. But, here's the bad part. _I don't know the code._ It's learned and I never learned it. I can fake it, sometimes. Sometimes I get lucky and guess the right response, whatever. But, I don't get people and they don't get me." 

Sportacus caressed Robbie's cheek. He didn't know what to say to offer comfort. Did Robbie even want comfort? Robbie leaned into Sportacus' hand, then gave a hard smile.

"Do you know why I became a villain, Sportacus, other than the fact I'm awesome at it?"

"No. I don't understand being a villain."

"I'd rather be despised for things I can control, than for things I can't," Robbie said, almost gently. 

Sportacus sat up, pulling Robbie close and looking him deep in the eyes.

"I don't despise you. I don't know of anyone who does. I don't need you to know some code, Robbie. I just need and want you. Just as you are." 

"I'll mess up," Robbie warned. 

"Yes and so will I. Then, we'll figure out what we need to do about it and move on together." 

Robbie took a deep breath, then nodded, laying his head down on Sportacus' shoulder.

"Robbie? Do you want to tell me why you didn't learn the code?" Sportacus asked respectfully.

"My parents died, when I was nine. My brother and I were raised by a very loving and very confused grandfather. He spent most of my childhood thinking I was my dad and that Glanni was me." 

"Glanni...Glanni Glaepur??" 

Robbie laughed. 

"You didn't know we were related?"

"No! He's my brother's villain."

"Oh, believe me, I know. My baby brother has told me all about the sports elf that just drives him up the wall!" Robbie laughed. "I think he has a crush on your brother." 

"Ípróttálfurrin is here. Is Glanni?"

"Certainly. He wouldn't miss an event like this, though I warned him not to interfere with my plans. That pickpocket you interrupted was one of his men. Why he brought part of the Mayhem Town Gang along is beyond even me."

"Your plans?" Sportacus asked, almost reflexively.

"My plans to seduce you," Robbie clarified, smirking, placing a quick, soft kiss on Sportacus' mouth. 

"I like that plan," Sportacus admitted, before bouncing up off the bed. "Come on!" 

"What?! You want to leave bed _now_? Why??" Robbie protested, trying to tug Sportacus back onto the bed.

"Don't you want to get something to eat?" Sportacus asked, laughing lightly.

"I have a warm bed and a naked elf right here and you think food is going to tempt me away? I've seen the menu, Sportakook. They aren't serving anything that good." 

"Robbie," Sportacus said tenderly, sighing. He sat back down on the bed, pulling Robbie close again. "We have all the time we want. Let's get something to eat and let me check on the kids. They'll be glad to see you. They were worried you would miss out on the fun."

"They should know better. Fine, fine, but I'm pilfering some food for lunch, so we don't have to go back out, again." 

"That sounds good to me," Sportacus agreed. 

They got dressed. Robbie dressed in a suit similar to last night, but the shirt was a buttoned, dress shirt in a deep purple. Sportacus came out from the shower and sighed, eyeing his French outfit. 

"Robbie? Where did my uniform go, last night?"

"It's in one of my disguise tubes."

"May I have it back for breakfast, please?" 

Robbie laughed, coming over. He once again spun Sportacus around, restoring his clothes. Sportacus retrieved his crystal from it's golden cage, placing it on his vest. Smiling, he wrapped his arms around Robbie's waist, kissing him tenderly.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Robbie said, blushing. 

Sportacus took Robbie's hand and led him to the dining area. All of the other Lazy Town residents were already there, getting plates from the buffet. Spotting them, Stephanie set her plate down and hurried over. She gave their hands a startled look, but didn't say anything. 

"Good morning, Stephanie!" Sportacus greeted, merrily.

"Hi, Sportacus. You found Robbie! Were you here last night, Robbie?"

"In fact, you were right. Hob was one of Robbie's disguises," Sportacus said. 

"Aww, we didn't get to see his disguise!" Trixie protested.

"It was basically what I'm wearing, with a phantom mask," Robbie explained, rolling his eyes. 

"I'm glad you came!" Stephanie said, surprising Robbie by throwing her arms around him. "Have you been having as much fun as us?"

"Probably even more," Robbie said dryly, patting her shoulder. "Sportahungry insisted on eating, though." 

"They don't just have healthy stuff," Pixel assured him. "Some guy in a catsuit and his friends brought in a _huge_ bunch of donuts and pastries." 

"Saved by my baby brother and his thugs," Robbie declared, gratefully. "NOW, I'm hungry." 

"You have a baby brother?" Stingy asked, indignantly. "How come _I_..."

"Ask your parents that, kid," Robbie advised. "Go on, finish getting your plates. If I'm here, I'm gonna eat."

"Yeah, I got a jelly donut and a chocolate one!" Ziggy said, happily. "You're gonna sit with us, aren't you? Our tables are those near the window." 

"Sure, sure, as soon as we get our food," Robbie agreed, pulling Sportacus towards the buffet. "It's just unnatural to have that much energy at this hour."

"Not for children, it isn't!" Sportacus disagreed. "You used to have that much energy, too. We all did." 

"That is a scandalous lie, my love," Robbie declared, heading for the donuts. 

"Okay, Robbie," Sportacus agreed, enjoying the warmth blossoming through him from Robbie's endearment. 

Robbie smirked. Well, that was two for him. And, the party was just starting!


End file.
